Abigail Winthrope was having a hard enough time adjusting to her new identity without the complication of discovering she’d landed next door to a pack of men that looked like they’d gathered for a male model convention. She couldn’t afford to become involved with any of the locals—be they ever so attractive—and, considering her last disastrous relationship, she really wasn’t interested, especially when she discovered the men gathered at the bed and breakfast next door for the Harvest Moon Festival all belonged to a motorcycle gang